


Rescue

by calie15



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 16:42:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calie15/pseuds/calie15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver's goes to rescue Felicity and kills everyone in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rescue

Oliver knocked the arrow and released it. It flew through the air, finding it’s target. There was a brief moment of shock on the man’s face, there always was. Then he fell, dead. Oliver didn’t falter as he aimed again. As he heard movement behind him he didn’t turn as he reached for a dagger and spun to throw it. It embedded itself in the man’s chest. Oliver turned again, moving his way through the darkness, his glasses allowing him to see what his enemies could not. There was screaming, panic, but Oliver didn’t panic.

As he moved through the building, almost on auto pilot, not really thinking as he released arrow after arrow and deflected attempts to kill him, Oliver replayed her voice over and over again in his head. Where he had been in that moment he last heard from stood out more clearly in his mind then his current surroundings.

“Oliver, I was wrong,” she whispered shakily, “they were after me.”

“Felicity?” He asked, his voice demanding a response. He heard her struggle, the sound of a fight and grunting as she put all she had into escaping her captors. Then it stopped.

“Thank you,” the male french voice said over the phone, “you’ve delivered her right to us.”

That’s what he thought of. That’s what Oliver remembered. The moments after the line disconnected were a blur as he screamed in anger and flipped the table and caused more damage by sending his fist through the wall, over and over again. He’d even blindly landed one punch to Diggle’s face before he was pulled from his blinding anger. It had taken three days to find her. 

It was only when he kicked in a door did he find himself in the present again. It was her face, tear stained, a growing bruise on her cheek, her hair mussed and pulled from it’s neat up do, her clothes dingy from being worn three days in a row. It was seeing her again that brought him back. It was always her that brought him back. There were three men, one held a gun to her. They said something to him, their accent making it difficult for him to understand, but it didn’t matter. What they had to say, no matter what language it was in, didn’t matter. They were dead.

Felicity did exactly as he’d always trained her, with a well placed elbow into his gut and her heal on his foot the man reacted. Felicity’s attack had been weaker then Oliver remembered it, but it was enough. Oliver released his arrow and turned on the other two. They fell seconds later. When he turned back to her she was already across the room and throwing her arms around him. Oliver pulled her close and released a breath he felt like he’d been holding for days. He tightened his arms around her, knowing his bow was digging into her back, but unable to force himself to let her go.

“I knew you’d come,” she whispered into his neck and breathed him in, relaxing at the scent of him while fighting the tears of relief. 

“It took me three days,” he said regretfully, but she shook her head into his neck.

“It’s okay, you’re here, that’s all that matters.”

Oliver squeezed his eyes shut, because that wasn’t the way it felt, but he didn’t argue. He allowed himself to hold her for a few more seconds before he reluctantly released her. “We need to go,” he whispered down to her, and she nodded up at him. Releasing her he brought his free hand up to her cheek and bent down, kissing her firmly. 

Felicity tightened her hold on his neck, leaning into him and deepening the kiss. Having him there, with her again, kissing her, it was almost her undoing. When they parted she looked up at him, hating that she couldn’t see his eyes through the glasses, but she could picture the emotion there as he brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I’m fine.”

From the tears in her eyes he doubted that, but there was no time for crying and she knew it. Later, he’d take her home with him, and then she’d let go, but she knew not to then. “Let’s go,” he said and dropped a brief kiss to her forehead, trying to convey as much of his feelings as he could when there wasn’t time to. He pressed a firm hand to her back as he led her out, keeping her close to his side the entire time.


End file.
